


A Stark Family Thanksgiving

by losingmymindtonight



Series: I Never Lived 'Til I Lived In Your Light [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Happy Thanksgiving, I don't really know how this happened tbh, Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, Precious Peter Parker, Thanksgiving, The Author Regrets Everything, Tony Stark Has A Heart, anyway enjoy the half-assed fluff, morgan stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-27 22:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16711057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losingmymindtonight/pseuds/losingmymindtonight
Summary: Tony spends some time with the people who make him feel the most thankful.





	A Stark Family Thanksgiving

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Happy Thanksgiving! Today, I’m thankful for finally finishing this little ficlet. And, of course, for all of you.

Peter was late.

It wasn’t like Tony was worried. Peter was a grown adult, after all, and a superhero to boot. He managed a multi-million-dollar tech company. Hell, it was  _Tony’s_ multi-million-dollar tech company. They’d fought an intergalactic war side by side. Maybe more tellingly, he was one of the few people he and Pepper had ever asked to babysit Morgan. There wasn’t anyone in the world he trusted more than Peter Parker.

And, okay, maybe it also helped that he’d tapped into the kid’s bio monitor and triple checked that everything seemed fine a few hours ago, too.

Either way, he wasn’t worried.

He was, however, getting a little tired of waiting.

By the time the elevator door to the penthouse beeped, it was way past midnight and Tony was the only one still awake. Pepper and Morgan had both gone to bed hours ago. He didn’t even have to look up to know who it was, especially when the intruder all but threw themselves across his lap, face buried firmly in the couch cushions and ribs digging painfully into the top of Tony’s thighs.

There were only a few people in the world who could touch him without permission, and he’d recognize the back of that head anywhere, even with the ridiculous amount gel forcing the natural curls in line.

“Hi, Pete.”

 _Pete._   _27 years old and still my kid._

“Hey, Tony.”

He reached out and rubbed the space between Peter’s shoulder blades soothingly. He was just wearing a thin dress shirt. He must’ve ditched his suit jacket on his way in. “You’re late.”

“Sorry.”

“No sorrys, just explanations. Spider-Man?”

“No. Work.”

“SI?”

Peter rolled over to shoot him a lazy smirk, scooting down until his head was in Tony’s lap. “Where else would I be working?”

“Dunno. Maybe you ditched us to CEO for Oscorp or something while I wasn’t looking.”

_You’re certainly smart enough._

“And leave Morgan to run the company all on her own? Nah. What kind of sibling would that make me?”

“Glad to know it has nothing to do with any loyalty you may have to me, your long-term and highly dedicated mentor.”

Peter laughed. Tony took the pause in conversation to really study his face. He looked spent. Dark bags hung under his eyes while the rest of his face looked startlingly pale. He set a hand against the kid’s side and easily felt the harsh curves of his ribs.

But here, curled up on the couch far away from the stress of SI, Peter  _did_  look happy.

Tony decided he’d take the baby steps for now.

_I’ll stuff him full of turkey tomorrow._

He finally gave into the urge to ruffle up Peter’s carefully gelled hair. “I wish you’d leave your curls alone, bud.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but didn’t stop his former mentor from tangling the strands up between his fingers. “They make me look too young.”

 _You are young, Pete_. “Chasing me into old age now, huh?”

A cheeky smile spread over the kid’s face. “I’m doing my best.”

“Yeah? Let’s stop that.”

Peter didn’t answer. Instead, he tugged irritably at his tie. Tony bit back a teasing comment and reached out to gently loosen the knot until he could slip it over his head.

The kid yawned. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He glanced up at the clock. 12:34. “You should get some sleep, bud. Parade starts at 9:00 and Morgan’s not about to let go of your tradition that easily.”

Peter’s smile was lazy. For a minute, he looked like a teenager again. Tony wanted to freeze it, hold them both in the moment forever.

Sometimes, he realized just how quickly life was racing by. How quickly Peter and Morgan were growing up.

_Just stay kids for a little bit longer._

“‘M very comfy right here, thanks.”

“No. Nope.” The protest felt half-hearted. “We’re both too old for me to carry you to bed.”

“Not too old to sleep on the couch.”

“You’ll wrinkle your suit.”

“I’ll iron it.”

“Can you even use an iron?”

“ _Yes_. Can you?”

“I’m Iron Man, Peter. Of course I can use an iron.”

“Haha. You’re so funny. The funniest. In fact, I can barely contain myself, you’re just  _that_  funny.”

“Don’t make me ground you for the lip, young man.”

“Can’t do that. ‘M a very important person now, you know.”

He tried to forget that, honestly. Tried to forget that the entire world was hyper-analyzing every move that Peter made. That the kid was following  _too_  closely in Tony’s footsteps.

That no matter what he did, Peter and Morgan would never be  _normal._

“Not while you’re under my roof, you’re not.”

“That is… the Dad-est thing you’ve ever said.”

“It can’t be.”

“Okay, you’re right. Probably isn’t.”

Peter let out a deep sigh, eyes closed. That was the end of  _that_ conversation, obviously. Tony laughed, hand carding lightly through the kid’s now wildly unstyled curls. “Are we actually sleeping on the couch?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, that’s definitely something a very important person would do.”

The kid just grinned, looking beyond exhausted. Tony spoke before he could really think about it.

“You look terrible, buddy.”

“Happy Thanksgiving to you too, Mister Stark.”

 _Mister Stark._  Nowadays, Peter only even called him that when he was hurt, beyond tired, or worse.

He swallowed hard, voice low. “I wish you’d talk to me.”

“I do talk to you.”

“I mean  _talk to me,_  talk to me.”

Peter scrunched up his face, perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“I  _mean_  that you should talk to me about why you seem so determined to work yourself into an early grave.”

“‘M not determined.”

“Well, you sure seem like you are.”

“I just… you know.”

“I don’t, actually. That’s why I asked.”

Peter squinted open one eye, then shut it again. “I- I just… I know a lot of people thought you and Pepper were crazy, putting me in charge of the company right out of grad school. I’m the youngest CEO of a Fortune 500 company. I want to… I want to make you… I just,” Peter’s face flushed, “I don’t want to let you down. And I-I really want you to be proud of me.”

_Oh, Peter._

“Hey. Look at me.” Their eyes met, heavy with memories of war and peace and hundreds of things neither of them had worked up the courage to say. “I’m already  _so_ proud of you. You’ve been brilliant. But you know what? I’d be even prouder if you took some time to take care of yourself. So… no work tomorrow, okay? Besides dealing with Morgan, of course.”

Peter blinked, then relaxed. “Morgan’s not work.”

“You hold onto that tomorrow, kiddo. She’s been going off all day about how excited she is to show you the plot for her new mystery novel.”

“‘S a privilege. She’s gonna be a New York Times bestseller before we know it.”

“Let’s get through her 11th birthday first, yeah? Jesus. Both of you are way too eager to grow up on me.”

“Was never really that eager.” Peter turned his face into Tony’s hand. “Just happened.”

He felt like something was stuck in his throat. His words came out clumsy. “Yeah, buddy. Tell me about it.”

\--

When Morgan woke him up at 8:30, Peter was gone.

“Dad! Dad! Dad!” She punctuated each shout with a hard jolt to his arm. “D _aaad_!”

He groaned dramatically. “‘M up. ‘M awake.”

Morgan shook him again. “Come  _on_! Uncle Happy’s already cooking!”

He sat up slowly and ignored Pepper, who was standing in the doorway with a shit-eating grin on her face. “Yeah? And where’s Uncle Rhodey?”

Pepper pushed away from the wall and moved to turn on the TV. “He and May are helping Happy.”

“Rhodey? In the kitchen? Almost as terrifying as the concept of  _Peter_  trying to cook.”

The pre-parade coverage buzzed pleasantly in the background. Pepper ran her hands through the snarls in Morgan’s hair as she leaned down to peck him on the lips. “Or you.”

“Oi. I’m not  _that_  bad.” He glanced around. “Speaking of Peter, where is he?”

“Mom made him go shower.” Morgan scrunched her nose up. “He better hurry, too. The parade starts _so soon_.”

“What starts so soon?”

Peter was standing exactly where Pepper was earlier, dressed in sweatpants, a faded MIT sweatshirt, and damp curls hanging in his face. Morgan brightened immediately, lunging to her feet and rushing him.

“Petey!”

He swept her up into his arms as she reached him, twirling her around. “Hey, M. Been a while, huh? Like, a whole four days?”

“ _Five_  days!”

Peter gasped, still dangling Morgan’s feet above the floor. “That’s a  _disgrace_.”

“It  _is_!”

“Well,” he set her down gently, “what important updates did I miss since I last saw you?”

She grabbed his hand and started hauling him towards the balcony. “ _So_  much! Uh, we’re writing haikus in class!”

“That’s those equations with x and y, right?”

“No!” She giggled. “It’s poetry!”

“ _Oh_. Words and letters and stuff.”

“You’re actually the worst person in the world.”

Peter spun in her grip to throw Tony a wink as she pulled him out the door. “Wow. I’ve managed to surpass even Dad?”

He almost shot him the middle finger before he remembered that Morgan was there. “Very funny, Peter!”

The balcony door slid shut and Pepper tugged him to his feet. His back creaked and he winced as the muscles pulled. God, he hated getting old.

“Now  _you_  go shower.” A kiss on his cheek. “Then you can go deal with the children.”

“You mean rescue Peter from his sister?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.” Something softened in her eyes. “Although he never minds, bless him. He’s always been so good with her.”

“He has.” He grinned after them for a minute before shaking himself. “You gonna help in the kitchen?”

Pepper scoffed. “Please. You know as well as I do that I’d just be a nuisance. I’ll watch the parade.”

“Joining us on the balcony?”

“I’ll pass on that one, too. Let  _you_  freeze to death. They invented heating for a reason, you know.”

“Probably a smart decision.” He leaned in close. “Always have been smarter than me.”

“Oh, I know I have.” She let her hand linger on his chest for a moment before giving him a quick shove towards the hallway. “Shower. Now. We have company. Company that arrived to you dozing on the couch, by the way.”

“Rhodey took pictures of us, didn’t he?”

“You know he did.”

“Fantastic.”

\--

He pushed open the balcony door, hair still wet against his ears, and was instantly greeted by the sound of bickering.

_The joy of children._

“Pikachu is the best balloon.”

He could practically taste Peter’s smugness. “Well, you’re wrong.”

“It is!”

“It isn’t.”

“It-It  _is_!” Morgan glanced back at Tony. “Dad! Tell Peter he’s wrong!”

“Stop torturing your sister, Peter.”

Peter held out a thick blanket as Tony stuffed himself between his two kids. “Since when did maintaining an opinion become a crime?”

Tony took the proffered blanket and wrapped it around himself. Man, it was cold. “Since right now.”

Morgan stuck out her tongue. Peter glared right back.

“Behave, children.”

“I’m not a child.”

“Yeah!” Morgan shoved her hands on her hips. At least, Tony thinks she did under her blanket. “Neither am I!”

He hauled them into double side hugs, blatantly disregarding the way they both squirmed. “You two are  _always_  gonna be my children.”

“Great.” Peter’s voice was dry. “I just love that.”

Morgan reached across Tony’s lap to poke both him and Peter. “Look! Look! Look! It’s the Build-A-Bear float! Do you see it? Do you?”

Peter nodded indulgently. “I do. You know, we should go to Build-A-Bear tomorrow.”

Tony grinned. “As long as you’re buying.”

“Of course. You’re living on retirement money, after all. I’m not a  _monster_.”

“Well thank god for that.”

Peter’s laugh was cut off by a shiver. Tony leaned over to pull the kid’s blanket more firmly around his shoulders. “You cold?”

He glanced over and shook his head. “A little, but I’m fine.”

“You sure? You’re not gonna go hibernating on me again, right?”

“That was one time.”

“And let’s keep it at one, yeah? I’m not as young as a used to be. My poor heart couldn’t take it.”

Peter’s face softened a little. “I swear I’m good. I’ll go inside if I start to feel too weird. Promise.”

“You better.” He turned back to Morgan. “So, you wanna give me your argument for why Pikachu is the best balloon? I’m expecting a strong thesis susceptible to critique.”

“It’s the smallest balloon, but  _I_  think that makes him  _the most_  special because-”

\--

They stayed out on the balcony for the entire parade.

By the time Morgan let them stumble back inside, even Tony was cold. Peter was putting on a brave face, but his jaw was tight from gritting his teeth against shivers and he’d started leaning heavily into Tony’s side a few minutes before Santa Claus’ float rolled by.

Needless to say, he was more than a little relieved to bundle the two kids up on the couch with mugs of hot chocolate. It only took half an hour for Peter’s body to re-acclimate, during which Tony seriously considered moving his entire operation somewhere in the Bahamas.

They ate scattered around the living room in an informal mess. Morgan demanded that Peter and Tony sat with her on the couch, with Peter in the middle. Pepper and May shared a loveseat while Rhodey and Happy set up in recliners.

The meal was half eating, half shouting opinions about the National Dog Show as it played out on the huge flat screen. Rhodey seemed deeply upset that the Golden Retriever didn’t win. Morgan and Peter tried to convince Tony to adopt a Saint Bernard, and Pepper didn’t even seem to against the idea.

Peter ate about four times his body weight. Everyone else only ate about half. As per Pepper’s family traditions, they started the Christmas movies as soon as soon as the National Dog Show ended. Morgan and Peter both demanded A Year Without a Santa Claus. The two sang along, loud and off-key. Peter even managed to make Morgan laugh so hard she fell off the couch with his commentary.

When the clock hit 7:00, Tony silently got up, filled a plate with leftovers, and shoved it into Peter’s hands. The kid shot him a grateful smile.

Yeah, like he’d forget about Peter’s metabolism just because  _he_  felt like he’d never have to eat again.

It wasn’t long before Morgan passed out on top of Peter. Apparently, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer made the perfect lullaby.

It hit Tony all at once, staring around the couches and chairs, that out of everyone in this room, only Morgan shared any of his blood. Genetically speaking, he was in a room full of strangers.

But he looked at Rhodey, his best friend since college. Happy, who had stuck by his side for way longer than he deserved. Pepper, the best and brightest woman in the entire world, the woman he was raising a child with. May, who he still vividly remembers crying with after they dropped Peter off at MIT.

And Peter. Stupid, self-less, fantastic Peter. One of his favorite people in the entire world. The best brother his daughter could have. His kid.

He looked at each and every one of them, and he knew that this was his family. His scattered, mosaic of a family.

And god, he loved them. He loved them so, so much.

Peter nudged him lightly, other arm still curled around Morgan as she slept. “Hey, Mister Stark?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

He slid his own arm behind the kid’s back, gently ruffling Morgan’s hair as Peter leaned into his side. “Happy Thanksgiving, buddy.”

His family.


End file.
